Introduction the Poem “The Anvil and the Hammer” by Kofi Awoonor

Kofi Awoonor – The Anvil and the Hammer

Caught between the anvil and the hammer

In the forging house of a new life,

Transforming the pangs that delivered me

Into the joy of new songs

The trappings of the past, tender and tenuous                                    5

Woven with the fibre of sisal and

Washed in the blood of the goat in the fetish hut

Are laced with the flimsy glories of paved streets.

The jargon of a new dialectic comes with the

Charisma of the perpetual search on the outlaw’s hill.                     10

Sew the old days for us, our fathers,

That we can wear them under our new garment,

After we have washed ourselves in

The whirlpool of the many rivers’ estuary.

We hear their songs and rumours every day                                       15

Determined to ignore these we use snatches from their tunes,

Make ourselves new flags and anthems

While we lift high the banner of the land

And listen to the reverberation of our songs                                      20

In the splash and moan of the sea.